


this dark thing (that sleeps in me)

by disgracefullee (DisgracefulLee)



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M, i have no idea what im doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:53:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29848725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisgracefulLee/pseuds/disgracefullee
Summary: Will Graham is on yet another case. At first, it just seems like a senseless, horrific crime. But when the case gets closer to home than he would like, he begins to question everything he knows about love and more importantly, family..Set in the middle of season one! I'm probably gonna screw up some timeline things but I'll do my best to fix them. Featuring Snarky!will and (eventually) Whipped!Hannibal
Relationships: Alana Bloom/Beverly Katz, Jimmy Price/Brian Zeller, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Kudos: 18





	this dark thing (that sleeps in me)

The first thing Will Graham noticed about the bodies was that there were more of them than there ought to be.

The second thing he noticed was that the person who killed them was not the person who painted the room in the victim’s blood. The person smeared over the wall- person, because the corpse was so mutilated it was impossible to tell what it had been- had been killed, true. There was no escaping that fact.

But this was not the work of the killer who had shot rapists and child pornographers while they slept, then packed up the bodies so that the only trace was the remains in their beds- the bone fragments splattering the pillows, the pools of blood soaking the sheets. Compared to this, those were clean kills- merciful. The victims never woke up.

This- he could see even the most hardened FBI agents struggling to hold down their lunches.

Will, though, realized that the scene wasn’t making him nauseous at all.

It made him _proud._

.

Abigail was, as usual, bored. 

She was always bored, now. Sure, she had a few books that Doctor Lecter had lent her (Although she was starting to think he had no idea what the average teenage girl liked- his choices were thoughtful, but even though she liked botany, she wasn’t sure anyone normal wanted a copy of an 18th century botanist’s handbook), and she could go down to the computer room to browse the internet (supervised, of course, heaven forbid she catch a glimpse of what people were saying about her), but she was still just. So. Bored.

Will understood, she thought. He knew how she felt- how out of place she was in enclosed rooms- how she wanted to escape to a forest and never come back. That was what she had loved about hunting with her father. The freedom- she was wild with it, out there with him. The constraints only came back when they entered his cabin together.

He’d taught her to compartmentalize, and she was good at it. Abigail Hobbs had two fathers- or maybe now she had four? Two fathers- one who loved her normally, and one who loved her so much that he had to kill for her. She wasn’t fine with it, so she boxed him up and only opened that box when she had to help him.

She didn’t know how she was going to tell Will that she’d helped him.

Hannibal knew, she was pretty sure. Abigail liked him fine- felt connected to him, sure. But the glint in his eyes when he looked at her was the exact same look her father had gotten as he’d gazed down at a kill- appraising its value to him. Thinking about all the ways he could use her. And he had so much leverage already- Boyle's death was damaging enough on its own. Doctor Lecter had his own agenda, one she strongly suspected was related to Will. She knew she meant something to him, but she seriously doubted it was emotional in nature.

She knew whatever he had with Will was emotional in nature.

But until one of them decided to visit her- or Alana popped in with more comforting words that just seemed to dig her father’s hunting knife in deeper- she was bored.

.

Hannibal was never bored, but he was especially not bored when Will Graham stood in front of him, caught up in the mind of another killer.

“I mean, he’s not- not a sociopath. Can’t be. I can feel his pride and joy while he rips into them, how happy he is that she- and I’m pretty sure it’s a she- ’s doing this.” He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his forehead. Hannibal knew he didn’t care that he was revealing his receding hairline, and something about the thought sent a thrill through him.

He’d always been good at playing catch up, though. “What makes you think the killer is female? The gentle nature of her kills? How little she seems to enjoy the butchery?” he asked.

Will snorted a little, frustrated. “No, nothing like that. I- she’s practical. She knows what she’s doing, does it as quickly and matter of factly as she can. It’s not about the killing, it’s about the death. And I think she does enjoy the kill, but not while she’s doing it. After, maybe, when she’s moved the body.”

Hannibal sat up, stretched. He watched Will watch him out of the corner of his eye- still, after all this time, wary of him- and he struggled to hold back a smile. A twitch catches the side of his mouth and pulls it up. Will looked surprised, and then looked away.

Maybe he’s begun to realize how much he could drag out of Hannibal.

He sighed. “Mothers of all species have been known to go to unimaginable lengths to protect their children. Lionesses die to protect their cubs from the wrath of rival lions- and the cubs die anyways. Perhaps this lioness wishes to protect her cubs.”

“You think it’s a mother?” asked Will, as if he hadn’t already seen.

“I believe that anything is possible,” admitted Hannibal. “Examining the parents of the children who had been attacked by the victims will, perhaps, be illuminating.”

“I agree.” Will flopped down in the chair across from him. “But that’s a lot of ground to cover. This many people- their victims span years, and we won’t know all of them.”

“I have the utmost faith in you.”

“Yeah, so does Jack,” Will snarled, then winced. “Sorry.”

“No offense was meant, and none was taken. Jack’s belief in you is a stressor that you do not need.” Hannibal uncrossed his legs and leaned forward on them.

“He doesn’t think I can fail.” Will corrected. He sighed. “I fail all the time. Sometimes I think I’m missing something huge, a shadow over my entire life. I don’t find everyone. ”

“Perhaps,” said Hannibal. “But you do not need to find everyone for your previous contributions to have worth.”

Will seemed unwilling to take that at face value, so Hannibal added, “And for someone who so clearly believes you need mothering, Jack does not adequately protect _you_.” And that was, at last, enough- Will finally broke into the smile that he had been craving. The one that made him look careless.

“I feel plenty protected,” Will admitted, grinning. “I got you, right?”

Hannibal smiled. 

“Always.”


End file.
